Being More Open
by Josephine Stone
Summary: <html><head></head>Draco has trouble saying the things he needs to say the most.</html>


**Title:** Being More Open  
><strong>Prompt Number:<strong> PROMPT # 11 requested by mothlights for hd_fan_fair's book fair.  
><strong>Book Title:<strong> Magical Drafts and Potions  
><strong>Rating:<strong> R  
><strong>Pairing(s):<strong> Harry/Draco  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Draco has trouble saying the things he needs to say the most.  
><strong>WarningsContent Notes:** None  
><strong>Word Count:<strong> 3,806  
><strong>Author's Notes:<strong> I'd like to thank flyingskull, for being able to help me on such short notice and get this cleaned up so quickly, because I am bad about pushing my deadlines.

* * *

><p>'Bloody hell!' Draco turned from the mirror and scanned the instructions in <em>Magical Drafts and Potions<em>one more time to make sure he had messed nothing up with the potion, then slammed the book closed. Someone would pay for this; the bloody potion did nothing! He should look like what Potter desired, instead he looked like himself. He'd take the book back and demand a refund—the potions were useless—but he stopped at his bedroom door when he remembered the _good luck_ scrawled on inside cover. Potter had given it to him after he'd heard that Draco wanted to work in the potion department in the Ministry, and had misplaced his own copy. It was Potter's copy from school. Draco would not be giving it back.

The ingredients! It must have been one of the ingredients, but he knew that was hopeless. He'd never get a refund for ingredients especially after using all of them. It was his job as the brewer to inspect and make sure the ingredients were perfect prior to brewing the potion. Draco picked up the rejection letter that had arrived that morning and placed it with the others in his desk drawer. The Ministry was right not to hire him, if he couldn't even brew a potion from one of his schoolbooks no matter how advanced said potion was. Forget potions. He didn't want to be a Potions Master he wanted to be—an Auror. Yes, he could help Potter track down criminals. It was perfect!

#

'I've decided to become an Auror,' Draco said as soon as his feet hit semi-solid ground.

Had the potion worked, the sex would have been another perk—along with getting a job he might actually enjoy—for Draco. Potter had, once again, beat him to their work assignment and started without him, but this time he was shirtless.

'Where are your clothes?'

'Oi, it's only a shirt, Malfoy. It's bloody hot out here.'

Yes, it was, so Draco cast a cooling charm on himself and sent one at Potter. 'Can I ask why we are in a Marsh?'

'We are looking for endangered magical species.'

'Any one in particular?'

'No.'

'Why do I have a feeling this has something to do with Lovegood?'

Potter laughed. 'Because it does! Get over here!' He waited for Draco to stand beside him and then asked, 'Why an Auror?'

'Sounds like fun; you're doing it.'

'Yeah, but it's about all I'm good at—Unspeakable or maybe the Spell Division seems more like your kind of thing.' After Draco gave him a questioning look, Potter said, 'Not that you wouldn't make a great Auror.'

'They already rejected me, and I got my rejection letter yesterday from the Potions Division.'

Potter looked at him surprised and Draco froze. Why had he told him that?

Embarrassed, Draco looked away from Potter and caught a small movement in the distance. 'What was that?' Draco pointed toward one of the lower branches of a tree about twenty metres away from where they were standing. Harry shushed him and they both kept quiet as they walked toward the branch that continued to flick back and forth though there was no wind. There a small creature with leathery white skin starred wide-eyed back at them. 'Potter, it's pixie.'

'In the Marshland?'

'It's obviously far from home.'

A smile slowly spread across the pixie's face showing its jagged teeth, but Draco whispered a quick freezing charm before it could make its attack.

They continued through their day, but found nothing else interesting in the Marsh. And then there was the awkward part of their days together; the part where they were reminded why they were there—where Draco was reminded Potter wasn't choosing this anymore than Draco was; that he'd rather be with his friends than watching over an enemy, but Potter refused to trust anyone else with the task. Potter was afraid anyone else might try to get revenge on Draco; Draco was afraid Potter was right.

Potter never looked at him when he pulled out the parchment to log the hours Draco worked that day. It was Draco's punishment for his war crimes and part of Potter's training to become an Auror. Potter signed it first then handed it over for Draco to sign and said, 'I'm sorry—' Draco shook his head at him. 'You have nothing to be sorry for; it's not your fault I can't find a job.' And without Potter he would never have filled his community service either. Since job site owners had to volunteer to let Draco do the work for them, he had trouble finding people willing to allow him his service hours. Once Potter took over finding it for him, Draco hadn't missed that it was always one of Potter's mates who found jobs for him to do.

'No,' Potter said, 'I meant—I am sorry that is happening as well, of course—but what I wanted to say was I'm sorry about how I reacted to your offer of friendship. And I should've answered you when you asked me all those questions while we were being fitted for robes. I don't know why I didn't. I didn't have a problem being honest with Hagrid or Ron about anything they asked me. I should've just told you that I was raised by Muggles and knew nothing about the Wizarding world. It mightn't've changed anything, but it's been on my mind how I could've reacted better had I not taken all my anger at my family out on you.'

'I don't know what to say.'

'Thank you and I accept your apology; that's what you say.'

'Thank you.' There were many other things Draco wanted to say, but he had never been good at apologising. It made him feel weak and he always felt too weak to give up anymore of his power, even to the people he wanted to give it to the most. 'I accept your apology.'

#

Of course their next assignment was at the Weasleys' shop. Draco knew it had to be coming and hoped against all odds they'd leave him and Potter alone there. Half his wish came true; George Weasley was taking a much need mental health weekend when Potter and Draco were scheduled to help out.

Ron Weasley was by the register and nodded as they entered the store, but none of them smiled at each other.

'We thought,' Weasley said, 'It'd be best if you cleaned up the back rooms. I'll stay out here and deal with all the customers; it's what I normally do. If I send for something—' He nodded toward Potter. 'You should bring it.'

'Or send it with magic,' Draco said. At that Weasley gave him a tight smiled and Potter lead him to the back.

Potter often came by to help and knew his way around; like always, Draco followed his lead. Somehow the place seemed sad, even without George present. The stress had over-whelmed Weasley, and this affected Potter's mood as well. Moreover, Potter's unreturned apology didn't help the atmosphere at all. Draco didn't know if Potter expected him to reply with his own, but he knew it was customary.

Draco told himself it didn't matter. What could an apology really do? It didn't take away what happened. He knew these thoughts were lies, because though the weight of his own transgressions seemed heavier everyday, Potter's words healed something inside of him he never realised was broken. He wanted to apologise, but couldn't give that to Potter. If he apologised for one thing it would lead to so much more, too much for him to admit to at once. He didn't have the strength to give that much away.

When they took a break to eat, Potter pulled a thick packet of papers out and laid it next to Draco. It was the application for the Auror Department. Draco thanked him and began to fill it out that moment, but he didn't get to finish it until later that night. So Potter wasn't there to see Draco's expression, when he came to the references section with Potter's personal info written in.

The rest of the night Draco took several trips to his mirror to make sure there wasn't a hint of red in his hair, and re-read the effects of the potion at least twenty times. Maybe the potion had worked, and Draco was the only one who could see himself as he was. Or, perhaps, everyone saw him as himself and only Potter saw him differently. No, Potter still recognised him. If he'd turned into a Ginny Weasley look-a-like or—well—_any_ of the Weasleys he'd no longer be himself. He swallowed near sick at the thought of what could have happened to him. It was almost like a suicide. He would have been alive, but no one would ever have known. He looked again; no, if anything had changed his hair looked a bit more blond and a bit less white. The potion had not worked.

#

'What colour is my hair?'

Potter laughed. 'Blond as it always is. Why? Did you try to colour it?'

'No.' Draco concentrated on the box of love potions in front him. 'Have they invented anything new since—'

'No, but the favourites sell well.' They were quiet as they filled some boxes and emptied others, but Draco could feel Potter's eyes on him every few minutes. They were almost done for the day when Potter said, 'Today's your last day, so...'

Draco's head shot up and their eyes met. It was? He never really looked at the sheet, just signed his name and moved on. It couldn't already be over; it was too soon. Draco tried to steady his voice when he said, 'Do you have a new assignment after—' He hated to think of himself as 'a case' or 'an assignment'. One of Potter's many obligations.

Potter shook his head. 'I'll probably spend my weekends here helping out like I did before, but I'd rather this not be the last I see of you.'

'What do you suggest?'

'I guess, I had hoped after I apologised we could give that friendship thing a try.'

'I can't imagine that ever could have ever worked; the rest of your friends aren't fond of me.'

'I never intended inviting them.'

He shouldn't get excited by that, but it was hard not to. Even if they were just friends, they'd be spending time alone. They'd leave the shop together and go to Harry's place. His friends all called him Harry. His stomach jumped in excitement at the same time the guilt grew heavier on his shoulders.

#

Draco supposed it was normal for friends to talk about sex after two bottles of wine; it was probably what everyone talked about after a couple bottles of wine, but he had never planned on admitting his fetish for Gryffindors or all the things he'd done with Longbottom at school.

'I can't believe it.'

Draco snorted. 'Most of the time I couldn't either; I was convinced he would turn me down every time I approached him, until he finally did.'

'Now, I really can't believe it. When did he turn you down?'

'After I started darning his robes.'

Harry fell over on Draco laughing. 'What?'

'He's clumsy and kept getting holes in his robes; it bothered me. Somehow—out of everything else—he found that insulting.' Draco rolled his eyes at the memory; he had a lot of things to apologise for there as well.

It went quiet and Draco caught Harry staring up at him from where he was laying his head in Draco's lap. Harry brought his hand up to play with the hair at the base of Draco's neck and turned to mouth Draco's growing erection through his trousers. With his free hand Harry pushed Draco's hand down his pants.

'Harry?'

'I want you.' Harry push up with his waist and kept his hand on Draco's pressing it down against him.

'You're drunk.' Draco pulled his hand back away from Harry and forced him to sit up, so he could stand. His breath was laboured and his legs were shaky as he backed away from Harry. 'I should go.'

'No, wait.' Harry staggered to his feet. 'You're drunk too; you should stay. There's plenty of room.'

It was a bad idea, but Draco agreed. They slept in separate rooms; no, they stayed in separate rooms. Neither of them slept.

#

'You're rather prickly today.' Draco thought it would make Harry laugh, but Harry frowned at his breakfast and rubbed his head. Harry took a dose of hangover potion and gave some to Draco as well. 'You keep this in stock?'

'I drink more than I should.' Harry said it as if it was nothing to worry about. 'I'm sorry about last night; I don't know what I was thinking.'

'Don't be—I—you were drunk.' Draco searched for words to say what he meant without making himself sound weak, which had become increasingly difficult with Harry recently. 'Decisions made while intoxicated are rarely followed through with once sober.'

Harry looked up and smile tugged at the corner of his lips. 'Is that all? You were worried I'd change my mind?' He laughed in relief. 'I'm not changing my mind Draco; I want you. I have for a while.'

'For a while? How long is a while?'

'Sometime during that first week of your community service, while we were setting up Hermione's parents house for them.'

That was months before Draco brewed the potion! It had worked; Draco _knew_ he couldn't possibly have messed the potion up. He didn't need to change at all, and that was why Draco was himself. Draco fought a smile back not ready to let Harry see how much that information meant to him. He let Harry take his hand and bring it to his mouth and the pressure caused Draco's guilt to get heavier.

But he didn't look away, even if he still couldn't say he was sorry.

Once he returned home to bathe and get a fresh set of robes, he found his rejection letter from the Aurors waiting for him on his desk. Well, that was fast.

#

'That's mad, we're in desperate need of more Aurors right now.' Harry seemed more upset about his rejection than Draco was. He was still in his Auror robes; he'd owled Draco before he left his office to meet him at his home, if Draco was available. Draco was always available. 'What about a Hit Wizard?'

Draco shook his head at the idea.

'You could open your own private practice in anything you wanted or go to school to become a consultant instead of going through one of the Ministry's training programs.'

'No, I don't know what I want.' He didn't. He was choosing careers based on his talents, but he was too used to making decisions based on how it made him look to the _right_ people and had never asked himself what he wanted. He _had_ wanted Harry to help him, but watching him stare at the floor in sullen silence made Draco wish he'd never told Potter about his job situation to begin with. If Harry writing a recommendation for him didn't get him a job, then there was very little Harry could do for him.

'Are you hungry?' Harry asked.

Draco shrugged. 'Sure.'

'Let's go out.'

He knew what Harry was doing. Draco hadn't walked around in public, not even to shop, since the end of the war. Though Harry spoke well of Draco, being seen with him would do much more than his words ever could have.

'Are you sure we are to that stage of our relationship?'

Harry smirked as he came up to Draco. 'Is it odd for two friends to have dinner together?' Draco's stomach dropped at the word _friends_ and he stepped back and tried to turn to hide his face as he was unable to stop the emotion from showing there. Harry was quick to add, 'I'm sorry—I didn't mean—'

'Merlin, stop apologising all the time.'

Harry stepped back and opened his mouth to say it again, but then closed it abruptly.

'It's not your fault every time if I get hurt by what you say; I shouldn't be so sensitive.' Draco could tell Harry wanted to argue with him, but it would've probably involved more apologising. Even in that Harry beat him. Harry could apologise and only gain more respect instead of losing it. 'I'm—' Why was it so hard to say the words? 'Where to you want to go? I haven't been out in a while; take me somewhere I've never been before.'

Harry gave a sigh of relief. 'All right.'

#

Their dinner together had been surprisingly uneventful except for the stares, but they were both used to that. Harry made a point to bring Draco with him whenever he needed to go somewhere and since Draco never went anywhere by himself, he was grateful for the occasions. Draco didn't send out anymore applications for training programs to see if his public excursions with Harry were having any effect, what worried him more was that Harry had yet to define their relationship.

Everyone thought they were friends, not lovers and that was closer to the truth than Draco wanted to admit to himself. After the night he'd pushed Harry away, Harry didn't try again. It was up to him and Draco hated it when things were left up to him. It was a weekend, so Potter spent the morning at the shop with Ron and was downcast when Draco met him at his house in the evening.

'Everything all right?'

Harry shook his head. 'I don't know. I mean it gets slightly better every day, but everyone heals at their own pace. I think George is getting worse instead of better. If you run into him anywhere, you should stay away from him.' There wasn't a high chance of that happening without Harry around, but Draco nodded his agreement.

'I think I've decided to go to University.'

Harry perked up at that. 'Really? What do you want to study?'

'Healing.' Draco would be in school for years and it would give the plan Harry already set in motion a chance to take. Harry smiled and nodded. 'That's great.'

They were silent for a moment again—something that was happening with more frequency as Draco fought to say the things he'd wanted to say but could never bring himself to actually say. 'I wanted to thank you for everything you're doing for me.'

'I'm not doing anything.'

'I meant spending time with me.'

'I like spending time with you.' Harry kissed him, finally.

#

The day Draco apologised was like any other of the many days they'd spent together. By the time he was finished with University, he had no trouble getting an internship at St. Mungo's and he _knew_ that being a Healer was something he'd love to do. Harry had learnt that Draco would never make the first move and after some time realised that he liked taking the lead anyway, but Draco still felt guilty for all the things he never said.

Harry could always read his moods and even in the middle of sex Draco was in a brooding one that day. 'What's wrong,' Harry asked as he nuzzled against Draco's neck and picked up the pace of his hips to the speed he knew Draco liked. It made it harder for Draco to think; harder for him to not let all of his weaknesses show. He'd been sharing little confidences with Harry since before they were together; things he never intended to share with anyone, but there were things he still held on to and they were weighing him down.

Draco was ready to say _nothing_ as he always did before when he thought about his regrets, but 'I'm sorry,' came out instead. Draco knew that he'd never apologised, but he wasn't expecting the words to scare Harry. Harry stopped moving and pulled backed and repeated his question his voice shaken as though waiting for Draco to break his heart.

'No, nothing's wrong—I'm sorry about before,' Draco said and Harry's expression relaxed as he caught on to what Draco was finally doing. Harry kissed him and when Draco shifted from the uncomfortable feeling of Harry inside him but not moving, Harry started again slower than before only to keep Draco comfortable and not concentrating on anything but what Draco said, 'I'm sorry about insulting Weasley and you that day on the train, and I'm sorry I didn't apologise for it then when it mattered and could have meant something.'

'It still matters, Draco.'

But Draco continued to talk over him. 'I'm sorry for all the times I made fun of your clothes and your hair and teased you about not having any parents.' It was getting difficult for Draco to breathe, but it wasn't from the sex or breathing the same air as Harry; it was from fighting to keep his emotions under control, because giving Harry this was harder than anything else he had given him yet. Harry moved more forcefully again and it helped to calm Draco down enough to continue. 'I'm sorry for teasing Weasley about being poor and Granger for being Muggleborn.' Every time Draco's breath hitched Harry moved a little faster, a little harder, and kissed him someplace new—from his neck to his ear, then his forehead to his nose, then his lips. 'I should've accepted Snape's help and told Dumbledore all about my mission instead of trying to do everything on my own. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I love you—fuck, I'm going to come.'

'I love you.'

Draco came while Harry was thanking him and kissing his tears away, and he was too caught up in his emotions to hear what Harry was saying so he had to ask him to repeat himself.

'I had already forgiven you.'

'I know, but it needed to be said.'

'I'm glad you told me.'

They were quiet, until Harry poked him about brooding again and Draco asked, 'Do you like my hair more blond than white?'

Harry laughed, pulled him into a kiss then said, 'Merlin, Malfoy what is it with you and your hair? I like you just the way you are.'

'There's nothing you've ever wanted to change about me?'

'Ever?' Harry smirked at him which earned him a glare in return, but then took a moment to think about it. 'I just wanted you to be more open with me.'


End file.
